The Unfurling Darkness
by AlmaDelCore
Summary: When a young woman is kidnapped by a man with a hidden agenda, will she be able to escape? Will she want to?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own one person in this so far. Nothing else. (sniffles) Though I'd love to have Dorian Gray for myself.**

**A/N: I suppose now would be a good time to say that I am using Dorian Gray's appearance from LXG, not The Picture of Dorian Gray. This is my first LXG fan fiction as well, so be kind. And, as always, review:D It'll make me happy!**

Prologue

The England streets were empty at this time of night. Anyone with half of a brain would know to avoid the roads now. Only the darker side of London, the muggers and robbers and hookers and the like, lingered outside, looking for any way to make money that they could.

The only woman outside who had none of those occupations must have had a temporary leave of sanity.

A young woman with locks of black made her way down the streets, her boots clicking gently against the cobblestones that made up the road. Her chin was lifted stubbornly into the air as she walked, ignoring the catcalls that were occasionally sent her way. She wrapped her cloak a little closer to her body, her eyes staring straight in front of her. 'Just don't provoke them…and you'll be safe.' she thought, though she couldn't help but nervously bite her bottom lip. Two muggers, however, were not as easily put off by her behavior.

The two softly spoke behind her before following her. The woman took in a sharp breath and looked over her shoulder, seeing the lustful eyes of the men behind her. '…Curses.' she thought, suddenly taking off into a sprint. Though she had always thought of herself as one of the quickest women of her age, she could already hear that the two men were catching up to her. She felt a hand suddenly grab at her neck and shove her down. She skidded across the ground, drawing in another breath at the dull pain across her body from being shoved down onto the ground. One of the men quickly straddled her while the other pulled out a dagger and laughed in an almost maniacal manner. The woman looked up at them with fearful eyes before she closed them to try to keep the image of these two men out. But a faint voice suddenly sounded in the darkness.

"Hello there." The two words were followed by the sound of a sword unsheathing. The two muggers made a sound of protest, the one on top of the woman leaping off of her. The sickening sound of a blade slicing through a body slipped quietly through the air, followed by the sound of two bodies thudding to the ground. The woman opened her eyes and gasped in horror at the two corpses that lay on the ground nearby. Her eyes landed on a black leather shoe nearby them, and traveled upwards until her eyes landed on the man's face.

Raven locks framed his rather pale face, ending near his shoulders, and dark eyes stared down at her own. His lips, framed as well by a dark mustache and a well-trimmed beard curled into a small smile. He was clothed in a three-piece suit of gray, the first piece a white shirt with ruffles that were somehow masculine that ended at the second piece, a gray vest, which was covered by the third piece, a gray and white striped coat. The blade of the sword that he held in his hands was covered in blood, and he silently wiped the crimson liquid on the shirt of one of the muggers before sliding it into a sheath, making it look very much like a normal cane. "Good evening, Miss Carter. I've been expecting you."

The woman, Freya Carter, furrowed her brow slightly as she sat up. "Expecting me? What do you mean?"

"Just what I said, of course." the man's soft voice was merely a purr, a piece of satin that slipped across her flesh. Freya shivered slightly at the sound before looking back up at the man with suspicious eyes.

"How did you know that I would be coming this way? And how do you know my name?"

"I do not believe that you need to know any of that yet." he walked slowly towards her and offered a hand to help her up. She took it after a few seconds and let him lift her up. What she didn't expect was when he suddenly spun her into his arms, one wrapping around her waist as the other tugged a handkerchief from a pocket on his jacket and held it to her nose. Freya's world seemed to fade as the sweet-smelling substance assaulted her senses, and she quickly lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

When Freya achieved consciousness once more, she found herself in a strange room atop a rather comfortable couch. When her vision ceased being blurry, she sat up and began to examine the room she was in with wide, frightened eyes. 'Where…am I?'

All around her, there seemed to be a great expanse of bookshelves, each filled to capacity. The man who had knocked her out with chloroform sat at a small table to the side, sipping a glass of wine almost regally. She shifted slightly on the couch, and he looked over at her, smiling ever so softly. "Wine, my dear?"

She furrowed her brow as her jaw dropped somewhat in outrage. The man kidnaps her, and then offers her wine when she awakes? No…no, this was uncalled for. She swung her legs off of the couch and rose, still feeling rather shaky, as she made her way towards him. "Now wait just a minute. I demand to know who you are, where I am, why I am here, and how you killed two men out there in cold blood without so much as a flinch."

He tilted his head to the right slightly, his dark eyes alighting with amusement as he himself rose. He towered over the petite woman, though he was only of an average height himself. "Well then, I suppose I should answer your questions. I am Dorian Gray. This is my home. And those two men deserved it, don't you think?" his smile nearly turned into a smirk as he lifted the wine glass to his lips and took another sip.

Freya opened her mouth to speak, but paused when she looked into his eyes. '…My God, he's gorgeous…' she dispelled the thought as soon as it came, shaking her head slightly before speaking. "You forgot to answer one question of mine."

"Oh?" Dorian's voice was little more than a purr, causing Freya to bite her bottom lip slightly when he took another step towards her. "And what was that question, my dear?"

"What do you bloody want from me!" the Englishwoman asked forcefully, her hands closing into fists.

"Oh, now that wasn't too polite, not was it?" Dorian asked, drinking the last bit of wine in the glass before setting it down on the table. He crossed his arms against his chest as he looked back down at her, the smirk never having left his lips.

"I don't think I care if it's polite or not, Mr. Gray. I think I've been kidnapped, and I demand to know the reason why you seem to be reluctant to let me go." Freya lifted her chin resolutely, her arms akimbo, and growled softly.

The amusement in his eyes was becoming insufferable. "Miss Carter, it is truly none of your business, believe me." As he spoke, he lifted the bottle of wine. "Now then, would you care for some?"

Freya glared at him, walking back to the couch and sitting down with a little "Hmph…" of anger and annoyance. She heard a soft chuckle and looked over at Dorian, seeing his shoulders shake with mirth. He brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes and crossed over to her. He stopped beside the couch, resting one of his hands behind her head on the wall, and leaned down to her. "It is simple, dear Freya." he spoke softly, leaning close until he paused right beside her ear. "I want your virus…"

The soft wafting of his breath against her ear caused a chill to run through her body, but she quickly turned her head to look up at him and glared indignantly into his eyes. "How would you know about that?"

"I know it's powerful. I know I can use it to bargain for something…very near and dear to my heart." Dorian's free hand gently patted his chest over his heart, smiling slightly. "So what do you say? Will you give it up? Will you tell me where you received such a thing? Or must I force you?"

Freya narrowed her icy blue eyes and turned her head quickly away to examine one of the titles lying nearby on a table. "…I will do nothing of the sort."

"Hmm. I am afraid that you will regret that decision, my dear." she heard his footsteps grow softer, but refused to look at him as he left the room without so much as a second glance in her direction. She sighed deeply, sliding down and laying her head against one of the arms of the couch.

How could he know of her virus? She had told no one. How was it possible that word had somehow leaked out? She didn't recall even writing her secret in her journal. 'Hmph…it appears it isn't as much of a secret anymore, Freya.' she reminded herself as she bit her bottom lip and stared up at the ceiling. Already she could feel her energy waning, and knew that soon she would need sustenance. However, if the shutting of the library door and the soft click of the lock was any indication, she would be getting no food, drink, or precious energy anytime soon.

**A/N: Before anyone asks (if anyone bothers to review. TT Pleeeeeeease review! O.o I'll love you forever!), I will probably reveal what sort of virus she has in the next chapter. And possibly a further explanation as to why Dorian wants it. And, as stated in my plea above, please review and let me know if you like this story, hate it, what could be better, and any questions you might have. Thank you:D**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own Freya. 'Tis all. No Dorian. (sniffles)**

**A/N: I'm still without a single review. This makes me sad. TT Please, make a poor author happy, and write a quick review for me!**

Chapter Two

A few hours had passed, and Freya was quite seriously considering downing the remaining wine in the bottle, when Dorian finally returned. Freya held a small book in her hand, entitled Pride and Prejudice, and had read around halfway through it when the man entered. She glanced up with another glare and placed the book beside her on the couch. "What do you want?"

"Besides the obvious, nothing. I have merely had some food for you and I prepared, if you would care to follow me to the dining room." his dark eyes held her own, though for once he wasn't smiling at her. He extended a slim, nearly elegant hand to her and, after she studied it for a few seconds, she rose on her own and brushed off her dress, almost as if she expected him to knock her unconscious again. He inclined his head slightly at this before gesturing for her to walk beside him. "Please. I don't believe I'll be too happy if you somehow manage to escape."

She scowled slightly at this, but began to walk beside him. The two made their way down a long hallway dotted with portraits and landscapes until they reached the end of it, and Dorian gently placed a hand on the small of Freya's back to guide her into the dining room. Inside was a long table, constructed out of a dark wood, that was surrounded by easily twenty chairs. Dorian tugged one out and glanced up at Freya with the smallest of smiles. She arched an eyebrow before sitting down and smoothing out her dress. He sat down across from her, and almost immediately, a servant brought in the first course.

"Have you been enjoying yourself, my dear?" Dorian asked as he took a sip of his wine.

"As much as a hostage can enjoy her prison. And yourself, Dorian?" Freya asked, a bit of a biting tone in her words as she sipped her soup and refused to look up at him.

"Oh, I've been perfectly fine. I did a bit of research and the like." Freya glanced up at him as he said these words, finding his eyes on hers as he leaned back slightly in the chair to take on a lazy position that he still managed to make look elegant.

"Oh? Research? What type of research would that be?" she asked, glancing down at the glass of wine and nudging it away slightly.

"Just on some general things that might interest you." After he said this, he looked down at her glass of wine. "I'm sorry, is something the matter?"

Freya tilted her head slightly to the left. "I don't drink alcohol, Dorian."

"Really?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Funny, I never pegged you as the sober type." With that said, he snapped his fingers, and a servant entered. "Gregory, please bring Miss Carter a glass of water." The servant quickly went off to obey the man's orders, and Dorian turned his coal-black eyes back to look at the woman sitting across from him. "As I was saying, I was researching a very modern thing. Something called Pranic energy." His lips curled into a smirk when he saw her freeze with her spoon halfway to her mouth. She slowly turned her ice blue eyes up to look at him, her jaw still slightly dropped as she processed what he had said.

"…Where did you hear about that?" she asked softly, her eyes wide. His smirk turned nearly evil for several seconds before he cleared his throat.

"I have my sources." And, with that, he ate a small bit of his soup, before the servants brought in the second course. "I also researched the sources of Pranic energy. What a shame that I am allergic to the most common ones, hmm?" Freya bit her bottom lip slightly. Of course he'd have taken them out of his house, if nothing but to torture her. "I assume you've heard of this new phenomenon, Miss Carter."

She gazed at Dorian before shutting her eyes tightly and letting out a deep sigh. "…What do you want to know?"

He chuckled softly to himself, murmuring a quiet, "Good…" before continuing. "I've heard of a virus out there…one that rapidly depletes this Pranic energy from the body." Dorian traced the rim of his wine glass with a slim finger, his eyes never straying from Freya's face. "But first, my dear, why don't you enlighten me to this…phenomenon."

"I thought you knew all about it." she said gruffly, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes of blue fire.

Dorian remained silent for a moment before bowing his head slightly in affirmation. "Perhaps. But somehow, I think you would know more than myself, and I would love to hear your thoughts on this matter."

The Englishwoman clenched her hand into a tight fist around the glass of water, though being careful not to break it. "Very well." her voice sounded strained. "Pranic energy is created in the mind. Everyone uses it in their daily living, to fuel their thoughts and the like. If we do not have it, however, our brain ceases functioning, and therefore our body shuts down."

Dorian nodded once more, that insufferable smirk crawling across his lips again. "Now then, tell me about this…virus."

Freya released the cup in her fingers when she feared its structure might soon give way. "A…certain scientist developed a virus that, when injected into a person's bloodstream, would travel to the brain and infect the areas that create the Pranic energy. A few of the areas shut down, therefore not making enough to fill the body's daily quota." she paused and looked up at him. He was smirking all the wider.

"And how do you know this, Miss Carter?" he asked, sipping his wine and studying her over the rim of the glass.

"…Because I was that scientist's test subject."

"And why are there few others like you?"

Just as he reached the end of that sentence, Freya grabbed her glass and hurled it at Dorian's head in one fluid motion. The man simply moved his head slightly to the side, and the glass shattered against the wall behind him. He laughed almost cruelly as he rose and brushed off his vest. "Touchy subject, my dear?" he asked in a mocking manner as Freya rose as well.

"If your inquisition is over, Mr. Gray, I would appreciate it if you would let me go."

"I can't do that, Miss Carter. But I can show you to your bedroom." Dorian extended a hand to her, but she only sneered at it.

"I'll follow…"


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own only Freya. Yeah. Depressing, ain't it? Don't bother suing me unless you want my step-brother and brother. They're stupid anyway.**

Chapter 3

Freya lie on the bed, her eyes buried in her hands. She was lying in the most beautiful bedroom she could ever imagine, and yet she was nothing more than a blasted prisoner. _Hmph... just great..._she thought to herself, moving her hands from her tear-stained cheeks and gazing up at the ceiling above her. How he had ever figured out her secret was beyond her. She hadn't told anyone, hadn't written down anything...and that scientist couldn't have said anything.

After all, he was dead.

The memories flashed in her mind's eye within an instant. Herself tied down to a table. A man in shadows poised over her with a syringe. The sudden shock of pain as the needle jabbed into her flesh. A sudden rush of strength and fury. Somehow leaping from the table. Corpses littering the floor as she ran out of the door with a speed she never knew she had.

She moved away from the images with a gasp, the drops of a cold sweat replacing her tears on her cheeks. Her chest heaved as she sat up quickly and ran a hand through her hair. How she hated reminiscing. It always left her so cold inside, and so scared that something like that would happen again. _And now it appears that it shall. Curses..._

The sound of the lock shifting at the door couldn't have come at a more convenient time. She snapped her head over to look at the door, eyes wide with fear. And, of course, Dorian Gray stepped inside. He had shed his jacket and his vest, now simply clothed in his gray suit pants, black shoes, and white shirt. Her eyes snapped down to look at his hands and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that they were empty. When she looked back up at his eyes, she saw an amused gleam in them. "...What do you want, Mr. Gray?" she asked in the most calm, civil tone she could muster.

"I wish for you to join me in the library, Miss Parave. Please do me the honor." Dorian bowed in an almost mocking fashion before standing straight and extending his arm to her. She sighed deeply, slid off of the bed, and walked over to him, this time actually taking his arm and allowing him to lead her to the library in absolute silence.

By the time they had reached the library, the silence was killing her. In exasperation, she released his arm with a growl. "What do you need me for, Dorian?"

Dorian smirked, lazily dropping down into a chair and draping a leg over one of the armrests. "Have we not covered this, Miss Parave?" he asked, lifting a goblet full of wine from the end table beside the chair and taking a sip.

"Fine...what do you need my virus for?" she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"That is not for you to know, silly girl."

She couldn't take it anymore. She stormed over to him, grabbed the ruffles on his collar that he somehow managed to make look masculine, and lifted him out of his chair in a rather impressive feat of strength. All she received in return was another amused gleam, however. "Now you listen to me, Gray, and you listen well. You are going to tell me why you need my virus, or let me go, before I castrate you! Is that clear?"

Dorian blinked for a moment before smirking. "Did anyone tell you how striking you are when you're angry?" he asked, his eyes raking over her body in a rather lecherous fashion. "Your hair mussed, your cheeks red, your-"

Freya glared at him in disgust before snatching the goblet from his hand, still holding him up with one hand, and striking the goblet against the end table. The glass shattered, sending shards and red wine everywhere. She held the jagged remains to his groin. "Your move, Gray."

Dorian's gaze flickered down to the goblet before he looked back at her, his smirk slightly faltering for a moment. "Put down the glass, Miss Parave. You do not have it in you." His tone was nothing less than smug.

"You wanna bet?" she growled quietly. Utter silence filled the room for a moment before Dorian chuckled. And, in the blink of an eye, she found herself pushed against one of the bookshelves, a long blade pressed against her neck. The remains of the goblet rolled across the floor when Dorian kicked it.

"Check, Miss Parave." he purred into her ear, his free hand trailing down her bare arm. A breath caught in her chest when he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her neck.

"Curse you, Gray..." she muttered, glaring at him when he moved back and smirked. Anger built up inside of her, nearly until she saw red. In fact, she could almost feel the smoke coming out of her ears. And so, also in the blink of an eye, she slapped him, and while he was distracted by the lash, grabbed his wrist and carefully yet quickly twisted him until his back was to her.

"Checkmate, Mr. Gray." she murmured into his ear, her hand now closed in an almost crushing grip over his own and pushing the sword against his neck until a little trickle of blood trailed down his porcelain skin. She pressed a little harder when she heard him laughing.

"Au contraire, ma cherie." he replied softly. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Immortality, my dear."

Freya blinked, arching a brow. "Demonstrate, if you will."

"With pleasure. Stab me at will, Miss Parave." he said, once again smugly. So she twirled the blade and stabbed him in the stomach, trying not to wince at the sound of a sharp blade sliding through flesh like butter. He winced momentarily before looking at her with a smirk. "And now, pull it out." And so, she did. She blinked when he stepped away from her and unbuttoned his shirt. He opened it, letting her catch a glimpse of the stab wound just as it seemed to form to dust and disintegrate from his toned flesh. "I believe the checkmate is mine, my dear."

She gazed up at the man, her brow furrowed in utmost confusion. For once, she was struck speechless. Her jaw dropped slightly as she tried to speak. "How-"

"And that is not for you to know either." he said as he arched one of his eyebrows with another smug smirk. He slid the blade into his sheath, making it appear as a mere cane. "But what just happened here...that is why we need your virus."

She stared at him again, struggling for a word before simply asking, "What?"

"Your strength. Your reflexes. Your speed. Your mere superiority. That is why we need that virus." he said the latter part rather matter-of-factly.

"And what do you plan to do with it once you get it?" Freya asked, still rather spellbound by the act she had just witnessed.

He laughed again as he went to the door. "Rule the world, of course." he called over his shoulder just before he shut the door and locked it. She stared at the door before growling and throwing herself into a chair, yelling into one of the pillows in frustration.


End file.
